


(I'm Begging You) Before It Ends

by andhopeto



Series: the devil wants to know [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Cis Girl!Derek, Cis Girl!Stiles, Consent Issues, Consent Play, Control Issues, Derek has intimacy issues, Dirty Talk, F/F, Lack of Safewords, PWP, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-30
Updated: 2012-09-30
Packaged: 2017-11-15 07:56:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/524956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andhopeto/pseuds/andhopeto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has a bad habit of running headfirst into dangerous situations and then refusing to leave, even when it looks like she's never going to make it home again, let alone in time for curfew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(I'm Begging You) Before It Ends

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings listed in tags explained in end notes for those who want/need them before reading.

Everything about her is warm. Too warm, Stiles found the first night they'd lain in bed together, for Stiles to even play at modesty. Dereka had laughed at Stiles that first night, not quite meanly, but with little kindness in her tone, when Stiles had pulled her t-shirt back on to cover her breasts as they curled up together in Stiles' bed.

"Why hide?" Dereka had asked, sliding a hand up under the hem, fingers brushing the soft skin of her stomach before cupping one of Stiles' breasts. "I've already seen it all." 

Stiles had scowled at that. But then Dereka had pinched her nipple and licked the back of her neck; Stiles had squirmed, feeling more wetness pool between her legs.

Dereka had that effect on her.

Even now, when they had been doing this, whatever this was, not that Stiles could quite say, for four months now. Dereka would crawl through her window and climb into Stiles' bed with her, wrapping herself around her body. Sometimes she would drag dirt and leaves with her into bed, and Stiles would whine, and Dereka would shut her up with a wet-hot kiss.

As much as Stiles hated the cleanup the next morning, she didn't have any real complaints about those nights.

"You're thinking too loud," Dereka says into her ear, breath a warm caress through her hair. Dereka sounds worn, tired, like she hasn't slept since the last time she made her way into Stiles' bed three nights ago and fucked her open with her fingers for what had felt like hours. Stiles had fallen asleep that night sated and utterly confused.

Dereka's fingers had been wet with more than just Stiles. She had obviously planned that night out because she had come prepared with a small bottle of personal lubricant. Just thinking about Dereka walking into the pharmacy on 7th and Main and setting lube on the counter in front of whatever little old lady had been manning the register at the time made the tips of Stiles' ears burn pink with her blush.

Dereka had a knack for making Stiles come. Stiles only had about a fifty percent success rate when left to her own devices. She was too easily distracted; it was a simple thing to be fantasizing about Buffy and Faith making out, naked, but then those thoughts could very swiftly turn into what if they got attacked by flesh-eating demons then and there. And no one wants to think about flesh-eating demons when they're trying to get off. At least Stiles didn't.

But Dereka? She not only had a knack for making Stiles come, but also a knack for keeping Stiles' focus on her. Whether she was pushing Stiles into walls, or demanding Stiles look something up for her, or spreading Stiles' legs open wide and licking her way up the insides of her thighs.

"How can I think too loud?" Stiles complains, feeling insulted. She squirms in Dereka's hold until she rolls around to face her, her eyes straying to Dereka's breasts on reflex before moving up to her face. Stiles can't help it. Dereka has _amazing_ breasts.

"Your whole body moves when you're thinking too much, like because you're not saying anything out loud, the rest of your body has to say it for you."

"Oh." Stiles stares, and stares, and then blurts out, "Why don't you ever let me reciprocate?"

And with that, Dereka's sleepily indulgent, albeit vaguely annoyed, expression is gone, masked. She looks wide awake now, eyes moving to behind Stiles toward the window, like she's getting ready to bolt.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, stay," Stiles says, crawling over Dereka as though that could possibly stop her or even slow her down. "Stay?" she says again, although this time it's a question. She's straddling Dereka's hips, hands on either side of her gorgeous, curved waist. Stiles notices these things, even when she's trying to be her most persuasive.

Dereka sighs, like she's just lost something.

"You want to reciprocate." It's not a question, it's Dereka sounding defeated. And that's a weird notion, Dereka, defeated by Stiles and sex. It doesn't seem quite right.

"Uh. Is that a trick question?" Stiles says anyway. "I mean, duh, yeah, of course I do. Assuming of course that you're okay with that, and actually want me to touch you. I'll understand if you don't?" And wow, that really wasn't meant to be a question, but Stiles could feel her words running away from her and was trying to stall them.

Dereka breaths. Stiles isn't sure if it's a breath of laughter or just a loud exhalation to make room for new, necessary air in her lungs.

"Go ahead. Touch me, then."

Stiles stares in awe, hands sliding up from the mattress to under Dereka's breasts, thumbs brushing the skin there. She stops abruptly and pulls her hands into her lap, sitting up straight.

"Wait, but, what do you like?" Stiles asks. Dereka frowns at her so deeply that Stiles is verging on concern for the wrinkle lines she'll have in the future. "What?" she asks. "It's a legitimate question! I mean, I like everything. You didn't even have to try and I was begging for more. Hello, recently a virgin here, remember?"

"Oh my god," Dereka says in what can only be described as horror under her breath.

"But you're all," and Stiles' hands do a complicated gesture that even _Stiles_ isn't quite sure what message they are trying to convey, "and gorgeous and I'm kind of afraid if I touch you the wrong way, you'll be more inclined to bite my face off instead of getting me off, and I really don't want that, because as much as I enjoy our little heart-to-hearts against brick walls, I much prefer it when you make me scream because your head's between my legs rather than because your eyes are getting red and creep-- oh shit! That was not an invitation!" Stiles yelps in fear. But she doesn't move off of Dereka's lap.

Stiles has a bad habit of running headfirst into dangerous situations and then refusing to leave, even when it looks like she's never going to make it home again, let alone in time for curfew.

Dereka's eyes are red now, yes, but she's smirking, and her fangs have not yet come out to play. She rolls the both of them over so that Stiles is once again on her back tonight, and presses her body down against her.

"Has anyone ever told you that you look especially arousing when you're looking slightly homicidal?" Stiles whispers, wide-eyed. "Oh god," she whines without taking a breath between sentences, "there is something seriously wrong with me."

"I'm going to fuck you again," Dereka says, leaning in to nip at Stiles' neck.

"Oh, I am so completely up for that, you have no idea."

"I'm going to fuck you," Dereka continues, expression wicked, "but I'm not going to make you come until you're so close you're begging for it."

"Holy god, Dereka, I get it, you like dirty talk. Now please, just touch me." Stiles whines, both hating and loving the way Dereka's fingers are just lightly brushing over her labia, her clit, her inner thighs still slick from earlier.

"No, Stiles. Because once you beg me to make you come, I will. I will fuck you until you're begging me to stop, and then I plan on fucking you some more."

Dereka looks deadly serious, and angry, like Stiles' impatience to get Dereka's hands and mouth on her is painful to deal with.

"No means no," Stiles quips, hips jerking into Dereka's feather-light touches.

"No, Stiles. You tell me no right now, and I leave until another night when I feel less like fucking you until you can't walk. Or you say yes, and I fuck you until _I_ decide I want to stop, not you."

Stiles can't hold back a soft moan at the thought of Dereka holding her down, fucking her open with her fingers until Stiles is sore and pleading for her to stop, to give it a rest, Dereka ignoring her pleas and pushing in another finger, lowering her mouth to Stiles' clit, working her over until she's coming again and again, unable to figure out if she wants Dereka to stop or keep going.

"I don't even have to be able to hear your heartbeat to see how excited that makes you," Dereka murmurs, leaning forward to claim Stiles' mouth in a kiss. When she lifts her head to speak again, Stiles can feel her breath right against her mouth. "Do you want that, Stiles? Do you want me to fuck you until you can't take it any longer, only to keep going and fuck you some more?"

"You need to work on your dirty talk," Stiles lies. But she nods. She nods and spreads her legs and as much as she wants to hide her face in her embarrassment of how badly she wants Dereka to take shameless advantage of her body, she can't bring herself to do it.

"Stiles," and Dereka looks somewhat pained, "I need you to say it. I need you to tell me it's okay."

And Stiles gets it. She does. Dereka doesn't ever lose control. Ever. She puts all the other werewolves to shame when the full moon rolls around. She shifts when she wants to shift. That's it. But here, in bed with Stiles, she wants to lose some of that control. She wants to let go and do whatever she wants to Stiles' body. But she's in control now. And she refuses to let even the slightest bit of it go until she has explicit permission.

"Do it. Fuck me. You can hurt me if you want to. Make me scream. I'm yours."

Dereka's smile is warm, but sharp. "You'll regret having said that in the morning."

Stiles' smile, by contrast, is eager and defiant. "No. I won't.

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: With Stiles' consent, Dereka intends to have sex with Stiles even after Stiles is begging her to stop. There is no discussion of safewords.
> 
>  
> 
> This is part one of a (likely) four-part series, one f!Derek/f!Stiles, one f!Derek/m!Stiles, one m!Derek/f!Stiles, and one with canon m!Derek/m!Stiles. Stories are all connected by theme, not by the story told within. Each story can be read independently of one another, although I do recommend reading the entire series to get the full picture.
> 
> My working title for this series was 'Derek has intimacy issues', and that basically tells you all you need to know about the theme.
> 
> Story and series titles are both from Fiona Apple's song, 'Criminal'.


End file.
